In some ways, the loud, bustling square reminds me of Harrowood. Even though I’m finally getting used to the sight of cat people selling their wares and pigeon-sized dragons delivering parcels overhead, everywhere I look are strange magical relics I’ve never seen before. A small, low cloud, which must be magical, hangs directly over the bazaar, providing pleasant shade and a very targeted rainfall in an open space where children are playing and screaming. The stalls are stuffed with jars of magical supplies, jewelry, street food, and, of course, clothes.
“Where do we start?” I ask, wandering over to the nearest pavilion containing rows of stacked linens. “Should we get you a new shirt first?”
“If you like,” Zyneth says. “Though I’ve a different type of stall in mind. Truly, we should have done this before the library excursion, had I known it would have escalated as quickly as it did. But at least we can be more prepared for Gillow’s mission. Look for a clothes sign with a spell circle insignia.”
Intrigued, I keep my eyes peeled. Well, the one eye, anyway. Although I’m not even sure if this glass head would technically be classified as an eye. I mean, I can see through it, so it counts, right?
I keep an eye out.
“Is that it?” I ask after a few minutes of wandering, pointing out a shoe stand called Fast Travel. Beneath the name is a picture of a boot with a small circle and five-point star on its side. The image of the boot is stationary, but the spell circle seems to catch the light in a way that makes it look like it’s sparking with magic.
“Good catch,” Zyneth says. “Yes, this should do nicely. You need better shoes, anyway. Best find something with shock absorption, I think.”
“Like springs?” I ask, utterly confused.
A laugh bursts from Zyneth. “No, not like springs.” He picks up a nearby boot and flips it over to show a symbol painted on the bottom and a tiny spell circle carved into the heel.
“Oh! They’re enchanted,” I realize. I Check the one Zyneth’s holding.
[Boot of Swiftness (1/2) enchanted with a Level 2 Navigation spell. +1 to Agility and +2 to Speed.]
Well those are new stats. Have you been holding out on me Echo?
[Negative,] Echo says. [Currently displayed stats have been abbreviated at the user’s request.]
What the fuck? When did I request that?
[The user expressed the unaltered list was ‘too much to understand’ when initially assigned a role, and the display menu was curtailed appropriately.]
What the hell, Echo. We’re going to have a chat about this later.
Echo does not reply.
“These are all enchanted?” I ask Zyneth, looking at another shoe that’s imbued with a spell that provides traction on wet surfaces.
“Indeed,” Zyneth says, picking his way through the shelves.
“Wow,” I say, turning over a leather boot in my hands. “They must be crazy expensive.”
“They are certainly more expensive than their un-enchanted counterparts,” Zyneth agrees, “Although the enchantments in these are all fairly basic, so the prices are not exorbitantly expensive. For anything of significant power or complexity, you would need to seek out a specialty shop, like Red’s. Besides, the shoes come with enchantments, but no magic lasts forever. The real money is in renewing the spells periodically, just as you must do with your core bond spell. Ah, here’s one that might work.” He picks up a pair of bright red boots.
“You are an artificer, right?” I ask Zyneth. “Can you not make us enchanted clothes of our own? Also, there is absolutely no way I am wearing that.”
“Why not?” he asks. “It has a shock absorption spell that should stop your feet from chipping and should also cushion your legs against fractures if you need to run.”
“It is garish,” I say. There’s even little stars pressed into the leather. It might be the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I worked in Hollywood.
“Oh, come on,” he says. “It’s practical.”
“Have some self-respect, Zyneth.” I cross my arms. “Just because I lost my body does not mean I lost my sense of fashion.”
Zyneth laughs and places the boots back on the rack. “Alright then, you take a look. Anything in this section should work.” He steps aside as I begin to pick through the pitifully small selection of shoes Zyneth has identified. “To answer your question, I probably could recreate some of these items. It would take tools and time, however, and what you’re really paying for is craftsmanship. The more precise the spell circle, the more effective the spell, and sometimes that’s more of an artistry skill than an arcana skill. These are our best options for now.”
I eventually settle on the least offensive pair of brown laced boots imbued with a Level 3 Feather Foot spell. At its current level, it prevents me from sustaining any Bludgeoning or Fall damage below a 10 point threshold if sustained through the shoes, and provides an additional 50% damage reduction above the 10 point threshold. Not too shabby.
Zyneth picks out a new shirt next, though he doesn’t opt for the magical variety. I’m not sure if he’s trying to save the money for me or if he just really doesn’t feel the bonuses are necessary. I suppose at his level, he’s already a step above the general population. But given our run-ins with people like Raz and Yedzaquib, I’m starting to worry that’s not enough.
“What, not even going to try it on first?” I ask as he moves to the merchant to pay.
“It doesn’t need to be perfect,” Zyneth says. “Besides, you’re the one we’re shopping for here.”
“Not perfect?” I scoff. “Come on, I know you have better fashion sense than that. I mean, look at you.”
His jacket fits snuggly, his hair perfectly brushed. Most mornings I catch him putting some kind of oil on his horns. And wait, what’s this—his belt matches his shoes?
“Oh my gods,” I say, realization dawning on me. “Were those red boots earlier a joke?”
Zyneth smiles slyly. “I admit I was expecting some pushback, but nothing nearly so vehement.”
I swear, which gets censored, so I switch to signs. “You asshole.”
He laughs, pulling out his pouch of coins to pay. “You make it easy for me.”
“No, wait,” I say, stopping him from paying. “Try it on first. Come on, if you are going to spoil me today, then I at least need to make sure you spoil yourself as well. Also, that color will do your skin tone no favors.” I grab a black shirt with gold trim. “Here, try this instead.”
After some initial reluctance, Zyneth gives in to my peer pressure. Instead of actually trying the clothes on, however, the stall has a mirror which casts an illusion in the reflection to simulate what the clothes would look like if worn. Where was this thing all my life?
“Wow,” I say, as he hastily flips through the options and manages to look good in everything. “You are hot.”
Zyneth gives something between a laugh and a cough. “I suppose that is subjective.”
“What?” I say. “No, man, you could wear a sack of potatoes and pull it off.” He doesn’t say anything, but he flushes a darker shade of red. “Oh my gods. You cannot take a compliment, can you?”
“That is not one of my more practiced skills,” he says, stepping away from the mirror and grabbing the shirt I had suggested.
“Well, you should own it,” I say as he pays. “You are a sexy demon man, what is not to like?”
“Descriptors like that, for one,” he says, avoiding my gaze.
Where the hell did confident, aloof Zyneth go, and who is this self-conscious awkward knock-off? “Aw, come on. Who hurt you?” I tease.
“No one,” Zyneth says shortly, taking his shirt and brushing past me to move back out into the marketplace.
It takes me that long to realize I might have fucked up.
“Hey, wait.” I catch up with him. “I am sorry. I did not mean to dig up anything. What I said back there—I was not trying to be hurtful.”
“Then what were you trying to do?” he asks, still weaving through the crowd as I struggle to keep pace. He’s like a fish slipping through water.
“Well, uh, you know,” I say, suddenly feeling terribly awkward. “I was flirting. Or trying to. My game is usually better than this.”
Zyneth slows, letting me catch up, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Uh, Expletive. I am sorry,” I stammer. “I thought I was getting vibes, but uh, never mind. I do not know why you would even be interested—that was stupid. Forget it, we should finish shopping.”
Zyneth looks at me with a frown. “What do you mean?”
“Uh, the cloak was next, right?” I say. Jesus, I’m stupid. I don’t know why I did that. Sure, he’s hot, but I know I can’t do this when I’m planning to leave. Things had just started to feel normal. For a moment, I’d forgotten about the predator and this fucking body, and just let myself be me. What was I thinking?
“No,” Zyneth says. “Not the cloak. What do you mean, you don’t know why I would be interested?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
My soul tightens, a strange mix of hope, anxiety, and self-disgust. I gesture to my body. “Well, you know. All of this is somewhat of a barrier.”
Zyneth looks at me with concern. “Is that how you see yourself?”
“Not me,” I say. “This body. It is not exactly designed for, ah, you know. Relationships.”
“Well,” Zyneth says. “It’s not a barrier for me.”
It feels like my body fills with TV static. That sounds a lot like he’s interested. I’m not overthinking this, am I? We walk for a moment in silence, the crowd buzzing around us.
“So, what you are saying is…”
“Gods above, Kanin.” Zyneth sighs out a laugh. “Yes. I fancy you.”
“Wow. Okay.” His words fill me with a fluttering warmth. I feel like a damn schoolkid, even though I know I shouldn’t be wanting this. It shouldn’t make me so happy. I search for any excuse to stamp the feeling out. “But… why?”
Zyneth continues to avoid my gaze, though as we walk alongside each other, our shoulders bump. He shakes his head. “You can be as thick as your glass, sometimes, but you have a good heart. From the first moment we met, you were risking your own life to try to save others. I admire that.”
My soul feels like it’s in freefall. I’m a mess of excitement and resignation. It doesn’t matter. It can’t work. Even if we had time, there’s no way it could work.
Yet. Yet. I hang onto every word he says, wanting to believe it so bad. "We have barely spent a week speaking to each other with this translator. Before that, using signs or Rezira to translate, it could hardly be considered deep conversation."
"That's true," Zyneth says, chuckling. "And perhaps part of it is that I'd become fond of the idea of you. This trapped, tragic person who needed my help."
"Flattering," I say flatly.
He laughs. "I know that doesn't sound great. When we first met, I think I was looking for someone to save. But that motive is not fair to anyone, and I've tried to move past that. Since then, it's been good to get to know the real you. Even with all your stubbornness and misguided independence."
I awkwardly pluck at the sleeve of a shirt. "Look, I... I am sorry. I know I keep acting without thinking about how it would affect others. I suppose I had never had to think about that before. It has always only been me."
Zyneth tips his head. "No one?"
"My family has not been in the picture since school. After that I buried myself in my career. Made it my whole life. I did not have any close friends. Flings, but no lovers. I only ever had to worry about me. Until Noli." I curl my hand into a fist, watching the layers of glass overlap each other in a scattering of light. "But I want to change that. I want to be better. I do not want to keep doing things that hurt you."
Zyneth smiles softly. "I appreciate that. It sounds like we both have things to work on."
Hope and despair wage war within me. I can't do this to myself. I can't do this to Zyneth. “This body, though," I say. "It is… it cannot work for a relationship. The physical aspect, I mean. I cannot be intimate.”
Zyneth’s shoulders are hunched. He looks less embarrassed now, but there’s a different hint of tension there. “As I said before: your body is no barrier to me. You see, I have never been interested in carnal relationships. It is the mind and soul I am attracted to.”
It finally clicks into place for me. “You are asexual,” I say, surprised. Then I recall the way I’d been flirting with him before, and I want to smack my forehead. “Oh gods, no wonder you were so uncomfortable.”
Zyneth smiles tightly. “I know you meant well. And it is still flattering to hear you express such attraction, even if I find the descriptors unrelatable.” He gives me a sideways look. “Assuming it was not a jest.”
“No!” I say. “Not at all. I mean. I was not really thinking about it when I made those comments. I guess I fell back into old habits.”
Zyneth looks at me and raises an amused eyebrow. “Telling men how attractive they are is a habit of yours?”
“Well, yeah,” I say. “If they are hot.”
Zyneth laughs, shaking his head. “I suspect we have led very different lives.”
“Was it the botched flirting, or the fact that I am from a different planet that clued you in?”
Zyneth grins, gesturing me over to another stall. This one has pants—the unenchanted variety. He grabs a pair and begins rifling through the belts, his smile gradually fading.
“You know, we’ve spent this whole conversation establishing my interests,” he says, passing me the pants to hold onto. “However, you never expressly clarified yours.”
I was hoping he wouldn’t ask. “I did say you are attractive.”
He gives me a pointed look. “But?”
“But,” I reluctantly add, my soul sinking in my chest, “I cannot do this. Not now. Not with me leaving.”
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Zyneth says. “I am capable of reading between the lines. I know there’s very little you would be returning to.”
“Except my body,” I say. “I want to be able to sleep again. Dream. Eat a burger, get drunk, smell some flowers. It would be Expletive great to sleep with someone. And yes, I know, that does not matter to you. But it matters to me. I just want all these small, normal things to be part of my life again.”
“And those are the things you want?” Zyneth asks. “More than anything?”
It hurts to say these things to him. But in a way, I’m glad he’s making me say it all aloud. At least there’s no uncertainty anymore. At least we know where we stand.
“More than anything,” I say, “I do not want to hurt anyone else. I want to get rid of the predator. My home and body are secondary.”
Zyneth holds my gaze for a long moment. I think he’s about to argue against Emrox again, but instead he gives a curt nod. “With the Athenaeum no longer an option, I suppose Emrox is our best bet. Now, let’s give these pants a try.”
Relieved, I grab the clothes Zyneth passes my way, and our conversation turns to how best to fasten a belt around a slippery glass torso with little-to-no hips. The tension is gone. Zyneth is all business once more. But there’s also a distance there, and a heaviness in my chest that I can only pretend to ignore.
We finish fitting the pants with idle conversation. I end up having to Sculpt my torso a bit to get the belt and pants to stay on, but the void makes up for any weakening in my chest.
While Zyneth pauses to grab a bite to eat, I slip away to a different stand a few shops down, this one stamped with a spell book logo. At this point, my two magical tomes are just extra weight I’m carrying around. I’ve already read them cover to cover and gleaned all the homunculus related spells I’m capable of performing. It’s time I free up some space in my satchel—and fill it with a few coins of my own instead.
I consider bartering, but I don’t want to keep Zyneth waiting. I quickly offer the stall owner my books, probably accept an extremely low-balled offer, and pocket the resulting change. It feels good to have my own cash to spend, finally. And maybe it’s the guilt from the previous conversation still itching at me, but I think I know exactly how I want to spend them.
“Looks like all we have left now is to get you a new cloak,” Zyneth says as he finishes his lunch: fried and crispy meat on a stick covered in spirals of colorful sauce. “Though actually, an overcoat might suit you better. The sleeves will help it stay on so you don’t have to worry about circumventing a neck clasp.”
“Gods, yes.” We wander out into the marketplace once more. The floating cloud overhead has shifted to continue blocking the sun, but I can tell we’ve already been here several hours. “That would be fantastic. Not to be ungrateful to Noli and Rezira, but this cloak is not at all flattering to my form.”
Zyneth snorts. “Just when I was thinking your priorities were admirably rational.”
“This is completely rational,” I say. “Not wanting to wear a dish towel is common sense.”
“I’d like to remind you that your common sense is being funded by my coin purse,” Zyneth says, eyes dancing in amusement.
“Low blow.” I pause at a stall with some knee-length coats. A little more dramatic than my usual style, but I’m pretty sure I could rock it. “If you are trying to guilt trip me over the cost, you should have committed to that three hours ago.”
“No, not this one,” Zyneth says, gesturing me away from the booth. “We should go for something enchanted, I think.”
“And you were just complaining about the cost.” I follow him anyway. “What do you have in mind?”
“Considering your body, more general shock absorption would be best,” Zyneth says. “Barring that, something that would lessen your mana expenditure for spells.”
“That exists?” I ask, interest piqued. That sure would help counter the predator’s constant leeching. “I could have used something like that months ago.”
“It’s a trade off,” Zyneth says. “It almost functions like an arcana crystal on a very small scale. It takes a high amount of mana to initially charge the circle, and the spell runs out faster than you would think. But if you perform magic often, it’s quite useful. Many battle mages wear such items.”
Zyneth points out a stall several booths away with a logo of a cloak superimposed with that now-familiar spell circle symbol. We duck beneath the awning and begin our hunt. I balk at the marked prices; the scant amount of coins I got from selling my spell books won’t even cover a tenth of the cost of these cloaks. Guess Zyneth will be paying for this one, too.
Unlike the boots, where the spell circle is carved into the heel, the capes and jackets all have the circles embroidered into the back. Some are outward facing, which Zyneth says is often displayed as a symbol of prestige, while others are inward facing: more practical and covert if you don’t want your opponents to recognize what sort of enchantments you might have on you. Zyneth strongly suggests the latter, but I can’t help but be drawn to the flashier and intricate circles that decorate the backs.
In the end, there’s only three coats that have what we’re looking for: a yellow waistcoat with a spell of Bludgeoning Damage resistance; a black ankle-length trench coat that looks straight out of the Matrix with Fall Damage resistance; and a blue knee-length overcoat with an absurd number of brass buttons and clasps. It’s the only one with the mana retention spell Zyneth mentioned.
“Well the yellow one is out,” I say.
“Agreed.” Zyneth puts it back on the table. “The damage resistance it might offer is negated by the fact that your arms would remain exposed. It would only help with a direct blow to your torso.”
“Plus, it is ugly,” I say.
“What do you think about the black one with the shock absorption spell?” Zyneth asks.
I pick it up. Echo tells me it would compound with my current Fall Damage Resistance skill and with the boots I just got, which is actually pretty tempting. However…
“If I wore this, it looks like I would need to start flying around and calling myself Neo,” I say.
Zyneth blinks, unimpressed. “If that is some sort of referential humor, it will not get you far in this world.”
“I like the blue one.” I swap the trench coat for the overcoat.
He sighs. “This is not supposed to be about which design is most fashionable.”
“It is certainly not,” I say, holding it up. “Do you see all these buttons?”
“More importantly,” Zyneth says, flipping it around to show the back. The spell circle is sewn with shimmering yellow thread, providing stark contrast against the blue. “This is quite literally putting a target on your back.”
“It matches all the brass though.” I shrug it on and check myself over in front of one of the stall’s mirrors. A little loose across the shoulders, but I could adjust my glass to fit. The tail ends just above my knees, and when I clasp one of the straps around my torso, it actually produces an almost flattering figure. But what strikes me most is that between this, the pants, and the boots, (if I ignore, for a moment, my head) I almost look like a real, living person. The familiarity of wearing clothes—just clothes—abruptly summons a wave of aching wistfulness. But it’s not all pain. It’s mixed with relief, and even a strange sense of recognition. Like, for the first time in a long time, I’m looking in a mirror and what I see actually seems like me.
“Kanin?” Zyneth asks.
“Sorry, what?” I say.
“You were just abnormally quiet,” Zyneth says.
I adjust the cuffs on the sleeve. “I can be pensive! I am a very cerebral person.”
Zyneth chuckles. “Of course. It looks good on you.”
“Right?” I turn around backward to see what the spell circle looks like on my frame, performing a disturbing owl-like pantomime as my head remains stationary. I Check the circle, and Echo tells me it will reduce the mana cost of my spells by 15%. Maybe that will balance out the predator’s persistent draining.
“We best pay for it then,” Zyneth says, heading over to the merchant.
I follow him, keeping the overcoat on. There’s something inherently comforting in all these layers. The way they outline my body, making me aware of my shape—my humanoid shape, not just a little glass bottle. It almost feels right. I almost feel normal.
“Zyneth.”
“Hm?” He doles out a significant number of gold coins. Despite my earlier jokes, I do feel a little guilty about that. I’ll make it up to him. Somehow.
“Thank you,” I say.
“If you really want to pay me back you could get a job,” he says with a teasing smile. It falters when I don’t immediately come back with a quip of my own.
“I mean it,” I say. “Really. Thank you. I did not realize how much I needed this.”
His expression softens. “I had hoped that would be the case. We should have done this the first day we arrived.”
“I was too focused on the library,” I say as we leave the booth and strike back out into the bazaar. “It would not have meant as much. But after yesterday…”
Yedzaquib. The arcana crystal.
The predator.
“I understand,” Zyneth says. “And I’m glad I could help.”
It’s not a fresh start, but it’s the moment of reprieve I needed to prepare for the journey to Emrox. And maybe Zyneth needed it to prepare to face Gillow. Either way, we needed this day to do nothing. Just recover from the last conflict, and brace ourselves for the one to come.
Because I have a feeling what we’re about to encounter beneath the waves will make the Athenaeum seem like a cake walk.